BEYOND THE QUANTUM OF SILENCE
by danceoftheheart
Summary: This piece is an A/U story with multi pairings and…well…it aint your standard CSI assemble story. There is GSR embedded in this tale no surprise-but you’ll have to read it to find out how I managed to work it in! Not telling. Nope.


_You've loved them solving crimes…you've loved them in their Haz-Matt suits, but WAIT till you see them in…_

**Beyond the Quantum of Silence**

_Starring: In order of Appearance_

David Hodges….…as…...Super Agent, David Bond / Himself

Nick Stokes…...as…..Himself / The Unnamed Commando

Al Robbins…as…...Dr. No

Catherine Willows…..as….Catseye / Herself

Gil Grissom…...as…."G" the Master of Agents / Himself

Sara Sidle…...as….The Super Organized Miss Moneypenny / Herself

Warrick Brown…as…Thuderball

Jim Brass….as….Lefty Lou

Greg Saunders….as….…Bond's Evil Nemesis, GoldenEye/ Himself

Mandy Webster…..as…..Herself

Wendy Sims…as….Herself

Archie Johnson…as….Dr. Frankenstein

Doctor Adams...…..as….The Doctor

* * *

**Spoilers**: None. This really has no relation to the canon of the show whatsoever.

**Prompt:** Bond, James Bond. Geekfiction writing challenge story response.

**A/N**: So…I stepped a little outside my comfort zone for this one. This piece is an Alternate Universe story with multi pairings and…well…it aint your standard CSI assemble story. There is GSR embedded in this tale (no surprise, look who's writing it) but you'll have to read it to find out how I managed to work it in! Not telling. Nope. Oh, and I thought it would be cute to see if I could work every James Bond film title made into my story…you know, just to drive myself that much more over the edge towards madness (slaps forehead in the face of that stupidity).

No cast members were hurt in the making of this story…though their characterizations may have been screwed with a little.

* * *

**BEYOND THE QUANTUM OF SILENCE**

_OPENING SCENE: CSI HEADQUARTERS: LAS VEGAS_

Nick Stokes propped his leather jacket on the crook of his finger and sauntered tiredly down the hallway to the elevators. Three hours past shift's end he was cranky, sweaty and in desperate need for a beer and the scores. He had a date with resident finger print expert Mandy Webster at seven that evening so he had just enough time to grab some sleep and a shower before he needed to make an appearance at her front door. He just hoped he had the energy to pull himself out of bed when the time came. He grinned greetings at a few of the people he passed, even raised a hand at Hodges in the Trace lab as he went past the door.

Bemused, David raised a hand in greeting but then doubled over with a hacking cough that sounded every bit as nasty as it looked. The sight stopped Nick cold. He poked his head around the glass, nodded at the technician. "Hey, Hodges, didn't Grissom tell you to take a sick day?"

Still trying to catch his breath, Hodges nodded and held up a hand for a pause. "I'm heading there, believe me but couldn't leave this hanging. Really sensitive stuff." Another round of vicious coughing wracked his frame when his breath failed and he reached weakly for a bottle of water to stem the bronchial spasm.

Nicky just shook his head. "Hodges man, you need to go home! That cough of yours sounds really serious. Have you had it checked out?"

The other man shook his head negatively. "Wasn't this bad last night," he wheezed. "Thought it was just allergies but (cough) worse now. Going as soon as this is done." He gestured to the sample being run on the machine to his right.

As tired as he was, Nick played the gentleman. "You okay to drive?"

Surprisingly, Hodges shook his head again. "I'll take a cab. Already called my doctor. Appointment in an hour."

"Okay then." Satisfied he'd done all that could be expected, Nick backed out of the room and continued on home leaving David propped on a stool watching tiny lights blink.

David Hodges downed another gulp of water, rubbing his aching chest absently, his pulse singing in his ears. He felt clammy and hot and so completely drained that it was all he could do not to pull up a piece of floor and drop into a deep deep sleep. But he pushed himself onward, knowing Grissom was waiting on these results, knowing that the lab depended on him to complete his tasks as efficiently and masterfully as possible in order to function. He just had to hang on long enough to get these last results out. He just had to hold back the dizziness long enough to pull the print-out and deliver it to Grissom. He just had to…

* * *

_SCENE TWO: INTERIOR MOTEL, JUST BEFORE DAWN_

The name of the city didn't matter. Most cities are the same when it comes to the sleazier parts of town. The name of the motel didn't matter either. One hole in the wall looked much like another when you were on the bad side of money. The talk show blaring from the television, the rickety nightstand with the tattered Bible, the stained sheets on the cheap mattress, none of it mattered worth spit. All that mattered was the man sitting on the edge of the bed, crying as he fondled a semi-automatic pistol in his hands.

He held the gun to his nose, taking a deep sniff of the piece, wanting to know its smell. He rubbed it intimately against his jaw to learn the weight and the feel of it. He held it up to the light to examine every inch, noting the ding in the barrel and the chip near the trigger. He released the safety and cocked it, just to hear the sound it would make. At least that's what he told himself.

He slipped the barrel into his mouth, to learn the taste…sucking on it…swirling his tongue around the tip…

BANG!

* * *

_SCENE THREE: MOONRAKER CASINO AND RESORT, ISLAND OF ST THOMAS, _

_VIRGIN ISLANDS, ALSO JUST BEFORE DAWN_

Two cars raced along a narrow strip of road; one driver intent on capture the other intent on escape. Each vehicle was skillfully handled through the mountainous terrain as the drivers played a potentially fatal game of cat and mouse on the precarious lanes.

The first car, a fully primed Lamborghini, cut a fine path up the escalating tarmac, easily able to outrun the other driver's borrowed jeep but not actually pushing the car to that extreme.

The second car, a run down, broken hunk of metal held together with spit and duct tape, managed to keep pace with the sports car but the driver of the jeep knew it that it was not because of his excellent skills behind the wheel. He sat poised at the wheel, all his senses on high alert, waiting for the trap he knew was baited for him alone.

Another hairpin turn, another skidding wrench for control and there it was.

As the Lamborghini slid passed a slightly wider outcropping of road, three vehicles took off from the waiting place with rocks flying from their wheels. They spanned the tarmac, three abreast, and drove towards the jeep with malicious intent.

The driver of the jeep knew that this was no ordinary game of chicken. It was a fight to the death. The drivers of the other cars were prepared to take him out regardless of the fact that they might lose their lives in the process. Making a lightening fast decision, the driver of the jeep stayed the course until the last possible second and then, just before impact, swerved hard to the left side of the road.

Knowing that his only possible method of survival depended on him being able to escape the car, the jeep's driver slammed on the brakes, slowing the vehicle down as much as he possibly could before launching himself from the seat to the side of the road.

The other drivers didn't have time to react. In a chaotic imitation of a pinball against the bumper pads of its machine, the abandoned jeep caused a chain reaction that resulted in one head on collision, one roll over and a side swipe in which both the jeep and the far right car tumbled over the edge of the cliff to the rocky shores below.

From his place on the side of the road, beaten and bloody from his reckless tumble, the driver of the jeep lay painfully on his back. When the two automobiles made contact with the harsh outcroppings of stone, a fireball gathered strength from the force of the impact and imploded with a wave of heat so intense that the driver of the jeep worried at first that it might swallow him whole. With seconds to spare, he triggered the cufflink on his right sleeve and a fire retardant spray of ultra-thin liquid plastic exploded from the buttons of his shirt, coating his person and protecting him from the harmful force of the blast.

He laughed, relieved that he had managed to cheat death once again but his relief was to be short-lived. A shadow suddenly blocked the sun and he was face to face with the barrel of a very serious looking gun. The driver of the jeep prepared for the worst but was surprised when the owner of the gun said, "My orders have changed." The man from the Lamborghini didn't look all that happy with this particular course of events. "You will not die today…at least not here."

No sooner had he finished speaking but another vehicle came tearing around the corner. This time it was a silver Hummer that skid to a stop just beyond the mess of the collision. Two men, dressed all in white, exited the automobile to offer their 'assistance'. With little care for his injured state, they removed him roughly from the tarmac and marched him to the waiting car.

* * *

_SCENE FOUR: UNNAMED VILLA: ST. THOMAS: 1 HOUR LATER_

My name is Bond. Dave Bond. Few have ever known me by that name. Fewer still continue breathing after they learn it.

I'm a Special Investigator for a highly classified branch of the Secret Service. In some circles I'm referred to as a Super Agent; in most circles I don't even exist.

Several years ago I accepted a deep cover assignment. My mission was to infiltrate the highest rankings of the LVDP Crime Lab and win the trust and acceptance of my peers in order to uncover the persons responsible for the black market auctioning of human body parts and DNA.

A few days ago, all my hard work and patience paid off. I got a tip of a shipment of 'merchandise' so I put in for some vacation time from the lab and followed it up. Looks like the tip was right on the money. Now I just had to figure out how to survive long enough to close this file.

I was lying on something soft and comfortable. Odd. I had expected accommodations akin to a cell or a rickety shed, not lavender scented linens and a feather down comforter. One tug on my wrist revealed that I was hand-cuffed by the right wrist to the frame. A chuckle sounded from the corner of the room and I recognized the voice immediately. My head was spinning when I finally managed to pry my eyelids open, but I didn't need 20/20 vision to identify the man in the white suit. "I should have known you'd be behind this sick escapade, Dr. No."

The man relaxing on the wicker arm chair smiled, his whole demeanor amused by my tone. Intelligent, devious and dangerous to know, he existed in a world unto himself of wealth and privilege that few could understand let alone imagine. He was a broken Santa Claus of a man but no child would ever want the 'toys' he carried in his bag. As if to prove my point, he said, "What you call 'sick' I call free enterprise. It's just business, after all." He nodded to his two guardsmen. "You can wait for me outside." Without a word they left and we were alone.

"You consider yourself a businessman? Some kind of broker of human remains?"

"A broker? Yes. Yes, I do like that. That is exactly what I am, Bond, a broker and it's what I will continue to be, as long as I see some profit in the venture." He gestured with his cane in a jabbing way and then chuckled at his own words. He wiped his brow with a snowy linen handkerchief. "Damn but it's hot here, isn't it David? Not like out last meeting, hey? Makes me long for the frozen tundra of the North!" Again, he laughed, the sound rolling from his belly with the heartiest of knee slaps

"Profit!" I scoffed. "That's what this all boils down to? Money? How very dull. I was hoping there might be something more than that at the heart of this thing." Another jellied laugh tumbled from him. I folded my free arm behind my neck, propping up a little to see him better. "How much money do you need? How much money do you want?" My questions were purely scientific. I discovered I really wanted the answers

His humor was effusive, his manner expansive as he confided softly, "I'll never be satisfied, Bond. I have an appetite for money that would rival Midas himself. The world is not enough for me. It is, however a trifle crowded, an issue I'll be concerning myself with quite seriously over the next couple of weeks. This planet has been filling up with useless people and it is time to make some strong inroads in claiming back the space that they are taking up. However, my issues are no longer your concern, Bond. I'm afraid I have an appointment with some clients from the Korean Black Market. My, uh, current business partner has made quite the reputation for himself overseas and we're finally in a position to make the most of his connections. Please, make use of the villa…while it's still here. I've rigged an explosive device to detonate at midnight or whenever one of the sensors is tripped from a window or a door opening." He tipped his hat to me. "Give my regards to G." And with that, he was gone.

I lost no time at all in losing the handcuffs. Thanks to the thin sliver of metal I'd hidden in my hairline, the lock was released in a matter of seconds. Now came the hard part; getting out of the house and catching Dr. No before he could make his getaway. I quick glance around the room revealed my only possible avenue of escape. Dr. No had said the windows and doors were rigged and from that I had no choice but to assume that he meant the frames of each. I know what they say about assumptions but that day I was hoping to be the exception to the rule.

Wasting little effort in debating the matter, I stomped my foot hard into the textured tiles of the villa's floor. When it failed to have the desired effect, I stomped twice more and on the third strike, the heel splintered revealing a tiny but powerful laser cutter. Deftly, I sliced a circle into the largest window pane, working it until a circle big enough for me to fit through was etched out. Without letting myself think of the possible dire outcome, I took a few steps back and then ran at it. In a tightly controlled gymnastic form, I did a dive roll through the centre of the circle, pushing the pane of glass free with my fingertips before flipping and completing the roll. When the area remained explosion free, I considered myself lucky and thanked whatever deity was responsible for the outcome.

I didn't take time to admire my feat or to take note of the various body parts that were screaming in protest from my latest abuse of them but took off at a dead run towards the helicopter I could see readying for take-off half a mile away.

Faster and faster I ran, tearing off my wristwatch and pulling my shirt free from the waistband of my pants. Dipping my finger into my naval, I pulled some of the skin coloured putty from the hole, turning the 'outie' that was there into an 'inny' and chewing it several times to activate it. When the putty was of sufficient consistency, I pulled it out and stuck to the band of my watch, and set the timer for twenty-five seconds. Before ten seconds had passed, I'd made it into throwing position. By the time 12 seconds had past I'd flicked the tiny switch on the side of the watch to make it magnetic. At fourteen seconds, I launched the watch at the back of the helicopter and it landed with a satisfying click right near the gastank, just as I knew it would. At sixteen seconds, I was running in the opposite direction as far and as fast as I possibly could, counting off the remaining seconds in my head as I did so. At 22 seconds, I hit the ground, diving behind some pretty fair sized boulders for protection.

When the explosion took the helicopter, the ground around me shook with the force, debris flying in several directions at once, and then there was nothing but the smell of charred machinery and human remains. For the second time that day, I lay painfully in the aftermath of an explosion, hurt, but still alive to tell the tale.

I hauled myself from the ground, stoically ignoring the agony seeping from my pores. I didn't have time to laze around. I had to work the information Dr. No had given me with all haste. He'd mentioned the overseas marketplace…Korea, specifically, a country of which I was no longer in tune with after my years of absence. I'd have to check back with headquarters before I went any further on this case.

I took a long look at the crash, making sure that no one had escaped the wreckage and then said to the flames, "You'll excuse me, Doctor but I'm afraid I need to hunt down some Octopussy."

* * *

_SCENE FIVE: APARTMENT COMPLEX, PARIS FRANCE, TWO DAYS LATER_

She was a saucy minx; tawny hair, seductive eyes, cobwebbed in secrets so deep as to make a man forget himself entirely in their depths. Brilliant, beautiful, coldly logical she ran through men like some women ran through money; using them to get what she wanted, not shedding a tear when she was through. Normally the sort of woman I did my best to steer clear of but fate had decided that our paths were due to cross once more and I had little control of the matter.

She opened the door clad in nothing but the softest concoction of leather and lace and a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You're late," she informed me, her sculpted body blocking the door.

"I was…detained."

Her eyes raked my form coldly. "I don't have time for excuses, David."

"You'll forgive me for pointing this out, but I didn't make any." I pushed back the cuff of my suit jacket and deliberately checked my watch. "Are we done with this?"

"But of course. You seem anxious to be on your way. Don't let me keep you." She pulled back from the opening in a huff and proceeded to slam the door in my face but my honed reflexes prevented her from doing so. Her talon-like nails made a b-line for my face.

"Now now, Cat, don't be like that." I took her mouth, drinking her anger like a vampire drains his prey until she was clinging to me rather than the door. I pulled back suddenly, my tone mocking. "Here, I brought you a present. This should make up for my tardiness." I dangled a sparkling spray of diamonds from my little finger and she brightened immediately.

"Oh David…they're gorgeous. Put them on me. I want to feel them against my throat." She turned and swept her long curls away from her neck and I played ladies' maid to her 'queen'. She left my side to peer into a gilded mirror and chuckled in deep delight. "Oh it's perfect, David. Wherever did you find it?"

"Just lying about." Actually, I retrieved them from the neck of a cross dressing double agent just after he'd tried to slice me open like a salmon at the fish market but that was a minor detail that I doubt she would appreciate knowing. Then again, she may not care.

She took one final admiring look in the glass, whirled to face me and then flung herself back into my arms. Her mouth was all smoky heat and dangerous mind-numbing lust as she plastered her body to mine. In a blur of hands and teeth she began to strip the clothes from my back in a desperate attempt to crawl into my skin. She was hot and ready and more than willing. At another time I might have let her have her way with me but tonight it was not to be.

I kissed her back…I was only human…and then disentangled myself from her clutches with a firmness that amused her. "No, Catherine."

She grinned, thinking I was playing and launched herself at me again but I held her at arm's length. "David Bond. Don't tell me you came all this was to see me only to brush me off. Even you wouldn't be so cruel."

"On the subject of cruelty, I plead innocence of a subject in which you clearly are the master." I turned my back on her pout and poured myself a martini from the flask she'd prepared for my arrival. One sip and I put it back. "Did no one ever teach you how to make a proper martini?"

"Stop it. Stop toying with me. I hate you when you're like this." She placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned into my back. "What can I do to change your mind, David? How can I persuade you to make love to me tonight?"

"You can't, Cat."

"But don't you remember how good we were together? Don't you remember what it was like for us? It will be that good again, I promise, David." Her hands swirled over the planes of my chest, reaching around my back, and then traveled lower, cupping me intimately with tempting pressure.

I moved away. "Yes, Cat…it was all good…very satisfying…until the moment you tried to smother me in my sleep."

She shrugged coyly. "But surely you aren't going to hold that little thing against me after so long a time?"

"You tried to take my life in exchange for a sparkly little stone."

She laughed, her voice light with disgust. "But why are you so surprised, darling. A little sex only last so long. Diamonds are forever." She released me in favor of the mirror's reflection once more. "Now, that that's settled, I'm sure you can forgive me for that little misunderstanding."

I smiled at her artful tone, cupping her shoulder with my hand. "Forgive, yes. I'm sure you couldn't have resisted such an opportunity if it meant making a trip to hell itself. Forgotten?" I shook my head, tracing the line of her neck with a delicate touch. She let her head fall to the side, a deliciously heady combination of lethal beauty and wicked sin oozing from her pores. "I'm not fool enough to take the same bait twice." I nipped at her neck, making her moan. "Besides, I'm here for information. I told you that when I called." When she looked up at me blankly I prompted her. "The Korean market, Catherine? I need to know who is currently calling the shots."

"Business," she muttered, flopping inelegantly against a pile of cushions on the art deco sofa. "Always with you it's business."

"Yes, Cat. Business. So tell me, who is it I need to see? Who's running the game?"

She shook her head, her curls dancing mischievously. "Wrong question, darling. You should be asking, 'Who isn't?'"

"More games, Cat?"

"Oh, no, David. The bare truth. No has been taken out."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. I did the taking." I passed her a glass of brandy which I knew from experience was her favorite drink. "I'm surprised it's reached your ears already."

She laughed, a velvet tinkling sound with just a hint of malice. "There's little that I don't know the moment it happens. My connections are wide and well-placed. Archer's dead too."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Archer had been in the game longer than I had. "You're certain."

"Oh yes. I had the misfortune of walking…in on him just as he pulled the trigger." She took a sip from her glass. She smiled, grimly. "There wasn't enough left of his head to put in the body bag. Huxley and Gwelth went last week."

"But they were out. What's the sense in killing them now?"

"That, dear David, is the one piece of information I don't have. Now, unless you've changed your mind about my offer, I regret to inform you that this interview is over."

"A name, Cat. I need a name."

"David, really, you don't expect me to-aghhhhh!" The rest of her words were lost as I seized her neck in a none too gentle grip.

"Three good men are dead, Cat. I insist you give me a name."

She closed her eyes, nodding painfully and I released her instantly. "Carrington. In Berlin. He'll know. He'll be able to take you closer. Now get out, damn you and don't come back!"

* * *

_SCENE SIX: HEADQUARTERS: TWO DAYS LATER_

The desk outside G's office was empty of its usual inhabitant so I announced myself with a knock on his door. He bade me enter and I did, closing the door behind me.

"Working late as usual, G. I see some things never change." I paced forward, extending a hand in greeting.

He took it then gestured me to a seat. "Good to see you back and in one piece, Bond. I was told that you wished to see me?" He was a friendly-looking, unassuming type of fellow; the kind you'd expect to meet on the street or in a bank. At least that was the way most people perceived him until you saw his eyes. He was aware of everything and everyone…no detail was missed despite appearances to the contrary.

"Yes, G. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." My eyes darted around the room.

"She's not here."

I didn't bother with denial but answered him as bluntly. "Then where is our invaluable Miss Moneypenny today?"

"At supper. I didn't tell her you were coming. I didn't want to upset her." There was a hard, challenging edge to G's voice that made me look at him suspiciously.

From the set of his chin and the flat line of his mouth I realized that I was no longer speaking with the man who was Moneypenny's boss but who apparently had become something more intimate as well in my absence. I bowed slightly from the waist. "Should I offer my congratulations or is this a casual enterprise?" My tone intimated something a little seamier.

G caught it right away and pounced. "You arrogant asshole. You left her in pieces and you have the nerve to saunter in here expecting her to be awaiting your return? I was there for her as she painfully rebuilt her life from the fragments and we've been together ever since. Married for the last two as a matter of fact so unless you've something official to discuss I'll ask you to have the decency to leave this office before she returns. She's currently carrying our second child and I don't want her upset."

I'd never seen G lose his temper or for that matter show much emotion in any circumstance but even a visually challenged man would have had little trouble seeing the fierce loyalty and passion housed in G's stiffly resentful frame. I backed down, ashamed. "If you have managed to make her happy, that is more than I had ever managed to accomplish. You have my sincere best wishes for your future."

He lowered himself back into his chair and folded his fingers, bridging them under his chin. "Thank you. I'll be sure to pass them on," he said, formally. "Now, how can I be of assistance?"

"During the process of completing my last assignment I came across some information that I believe you might have some interest in. Keep it confidential. This file is for your eyes only."

He glanced at the label. "From Russia with love? What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"It's code for the man with the golden gun. I intercepted it from an unlikely source but have come to know that the information it contains is unfortunately quite accurate."

All social 'chitchat' was forgotten in a heartbeat. "You don't mean-?"

I nodded; all at once weary with the world. "Yes. It appears our friend Goldfinger is at it again." No longer able to sit, I stood and paced to the window, looking out on the traffic below.

"But that's impossible, Bond. Goldfinger's dead. I saw his corpse myself."

I shook my head wanting him to be right but knowing in my gut that he was wrong. I turned back from the window and answered, "I guess he chose to die another day."

"I find this next to impossible to believe." He stroked his salt and pepper beard thoughtfully.

"At first so did I, but now, I'm of a different opinion. I have reason to believe that he was person in partnership with Dr. No on my last assignment. A silent partner to be sure, but certain recent events have his stamp all over them." G didn't look convinced. "Come on, G. This isn't a game. If it was up to me I'd rather live and let die but thinking like that will only get me or one of your other agents killed. He's back and he's out for revenge." I told him the details of the deaths of Huxley and Gwelth. "I don't know how he managed it exactly but all three have taken their lives but I am certain that it was not their choice."

"How could anyone be certain of that?"

"Call it a hunch."

"Bond, in this office we don't deal with hunches. We deal with proof."

"Yes, well, if everything goes according to plan, the next time I stand in this office I'll have that for you as well."

There was a pause and then my supervisor asked, "Any idea of his current location?"

"Not precisely but I do have a lead on a person who might. Thunderball."

"Thunderball? Are you mad? He's as dangerous as Goldfinger in his own way."

"Perhaps, but he is the only connection between me and whatever loophole Goldfinger used to cheat death."

"A view to a kill as it were."

"Yes."

"And do you know where he is?"

"As a matter of fact I do…the Casino Royale. I'm heading there now. I just thought someone else should be informed of what I was up against in the event that…I didn't make it back." I turned from my study and flashed a serious smile. "Don't wait up."

* * *

_SCENE SEVEN: HEADQUARTERS: PARKING GARAGE: THIRD LEVEL_

Though I had no further intention of seeking her out, it seemed that fate had decided that we were to meet that day after all. Five years absence had had no effect at all on her face. She still walked with the grace and confidence that had first attracted me, the fact that she was probably close to five months along had no bearing at all. In some ways, it made her all the more desirable. She'd let her hair go to curls that day, the effect softening her features and making her natural glow more radiant. Her figure was ripened with curves. All in all she had a devastating effect on my person.

She was standing at her car, searching for her keys when I approached. My steps were muffled by the noise of a distant engine so she wasn't aware I there until I was almost upon her.

When my shadow crossed her path, she jumped. "David Bond! You scared the living daylights out of me."

"That was not my intention." I smiled, enjoying the chance to look at her face for the first time in so long.

"Yes, well, from what I've observed, your intentions are secondary to your actions." She stopped fumbling through her purse and propped a hand on her car. "What are you doing here? I thought you were still on assignment."

"Just finished. Had to touch base with G before moving on to my next."

I could see how her mind observed that information and linked it to the events of the morning. No doubt about it; she was as quick as she ever was. "I see. It seems my husband's sudden craving for sushi was little more than an excuse to get rid of me for a few moments. He's been a little over-protective lately. He needn't have bothered, you know. It would have been fine." She smiled prettily and tilted her head. "How have you been, David?"

"Except for the usual rounds of bruises and explosions, I'm well. I was sorry that we missed each other upstairs. I was hoping to see you…to apologize for-"

Her dark lashes lowered, feathering the ivory planes of her cheeks. "Please, David…don't. It wouldn't do any good…for either of us, not now anyway. I don't want it now."

"But there was a time?" I pushed.

"What do you want me to say?" she pushed back, irritated.

"The truth. It's all I've ever wanted from you."

Her eyes turned cold. "Yes, and you got it too. I wish I could have been so fortunate. I've seen how much stalk you put in the truth."

"You've never let me explain. You've never listened to my-"

"What would be the point? I know what you are, David. I've always known. I just fooled myself into believing that I meant more to you than your job. That I could ignore the part of you that made you the ruthless, dedicated agent that you are. In the end, I couldn't, and I paid the price." She paused, her voice dropping to a delicate, fragile whisper. "I thought you were the spy who loved me, someone who would never betray me, but it just goes to show that loving someone who has a license to kill means you can never say never again."

"She was a job, Sara. It meant more than nothing."

"I can't see it that way. I'm not strong enough for that sort of openness between us. I was too selfish then, I suppose. I wanted all of you or…I wanted nothing to do with you at all. You forced me to choose and I did."

And in that moment, with those words, she broke my heart but I had enough sensibility for her feelings not to let it show. "Tell me, are you happy?"

"With G? Yes, more than I've ever been. He loves me. He respects me. I am his first love and only love and I wouldn't trade it for anything." Her declaration was as honest and as truthful as I could have asked.

"Then that's all there is." I found her hand, raised it to my lips and kissed her good-bye in every way that mattered.

* * *

_SCENE EIGHT: CASINO ROYALE: 23 HOURS LATER_

I spotted him at the blackjack table; his green eyes weary, his hands shaking from too little sleep and way too much booze. He was alone, cursing the play and the dealer silently with every turn of the cards but nothing overt enough to get him tossed from the floor. When I sat next to him, he took the briefest of seconds to identify me and then went back to his game.

"For a man who's clearly wanted by several agencies, you're rather cavalier in your actions."

"I do not wish to have a conversation with you, Bond so I shall not answer you." His German accent was thick and slurred. "Go away before I kill you." His darkly skinned hand played with the weapon I could see holstered at his side.

"Careful now," I told him, glancing around. "You'll be tossed out of here for sure if you have the bad judgment to try to shoot me while we're on the floor."

"I do not worry," he told me bluntly. "I could kill you seven times over and not get a blink. I'm an important man in this place. I could buy and sell you and then kill you." His hand slid sloppily along the edge of the table, scooping up the remaining chips he'd had piled in front of him. "This table is cold," he told the dealer. "I am done. Call security and have this man banned from this hotel."

There was no hesitation in the dealer's response. He moved immediately to comply with Thunderball's wishes and I moved just as quickly to catch up with the lanky man weaving his way thought the slot machine alleys. "You may be important here for the time being, Thunderball but just as I found out where you were and to whom you might have a connection, so will others. You are not being your normal discreet self. It's just a matter of time before your boss discovers that you are quickly becoming a liability that he can no longer afford."

"SH-Shut-up-p," he warned me, going so far as to pull the gun from his holster and wave it in my direction. "I am in n-no danger from my boss. He- He does not concern himself with my doings any more."

"Then you are already dead," I told him. "You just don't know it yet."

He used a four letter word and slammed through a set of security doors blocked by hulking men with serious faces. I would have made to follow him but a voice at my shoulder stopped me cold.

"You'll get nowhere with him," I was told. "And you'll get nowhere with me. I'd suggest you leave. Now."

I turned to see Lefty Lou regarding me casually from a motorized wheelchair. Though his legs were covered it was easy to see that they both were encased in heavy plaster casts. I frowned, looking him over for any signs of a ruse but he was as comfortable in that chair as one would expect an inhabitant to be. "Isn't this an interesting turn of events. I hardly expected to see you here…or in that condition."

"I'll repeat myself only once. You need to leave. Now," he ordered again, hefting a wicked looking semi-automatic that could certainly do a decent amount of damage. "This is your last chance to walk out of here in possession of all of your body parts."

I nodded and began to weave my way through the crowded floor. Lefty Lou in a wheelchair? Why hadn't I heard anything of the like before this? "I'll go but tell your boss this isn't over."

"You keep messing snooping in places where you don't belong and you'll be able to tell him that in person. Right before he takes you apart and feeds you to his dogs."

We'd made it to the front entrance of the casino by then and there was nothing left but for me to walk out. Well, I decided, wasn't a total loss. I had managed to get some information…just not the sort I'd expected. I glanced up and down the street, considering my next move when who did I spy exiting the casino from a back entrance but my old friend, Thunderball. He didn't look left or right, just piled into a limo that was waiting at the curb and took off into the stream of traffic. I ran to my car and raced after him.

* * *

_SCENE NINE: TAILING THE LIMOUSINE_

Wary of the previous trap I'd found myself in on St. Thomas, I kept my distance as I trailed the limousine down the sodden streets to the darker part of town. The limo stopped twice. The first time was to pick-up a prostitute and the second…thirty minutes later…was to let her out. I bided my time, knowing that Thunderball was not thinking clearly and that this might be the best opportunity I'd have of capturing my prey.

We left the city limits and the limo picked up speed. I chose to follow several car lengths back to ensure my anonymity amongst other vehicles and for that reason almost missed the fact that the limo turned sharply onto a side road closed in on each side by massive trees. Had I missed the sight of the driver turning, there's little likelihood I would have been able to find the side road due to its natural camouflage.

Once on it, I had no choice but to bank down my speed. There were just the two of us on the road now and I wanted to hold onto the element of surprise as long as possible. I counted my blessings that I was tailing them in the day and not the night where my headlights would have made such a thing practically impossible.

We drove for an hour, covered by trees, on a single lane when suddenly the forest cleared and we found ourselves on a dirt road that cut directly through a meadow. I cursed the loss of foliage but as there was no reaction from the limo by either change of speed or manner of driving I relaxed again, thinking I was far enough back that they simply hadn't noticed me. A few minutes later, I was proven wrong.

I heard the whirring of the chopper blades bare seconds before I saw the shadow of the helicopter eclipse the path of the sun. I gunned the motor, thinking to outrun the mechanical bird but it proved to be a useless gesture. There was a heavy, loud clang on the roof of my car. I tried to swerve thinking I was getting pelted with monstrous objects from above but soon learned that such was not the case. One minute my wheels were in contact with the ground, the next I was airborne, flying through the sky attached to a giant electro-magnet. I dangled like a child's toy prize in a dollar arcade, twisting aimlessly at the bottom of super reinforced chain links.

Not liking the idea of leaving my fate in the hands of others, I crawled into the back seat and stripped off my coat and rolled down the nearest window. I inched my way through the opening, levering myself through the portal until I was balancing on the slippery surface of the magnet itself. Then, with agonizing slowness I began to climb up the thick, meaty chains to the runners of the copter's landing skids. Once I'd made it, I paused to catch my breath and began to plot my next move.

* * *

_SCENE TEN: THE HELICOPTER_

The way I saw it, I had two options. The first being to try to take the copter down mid-air…without killing myself in the process; the second to wait until it landed and take my chances then. I had just about made up my mind to take the chopper mid-air when the decision was forcibly taken out of my hands. I'd known it was too much to hope that the inhabitants of the helicopter hadn't noticed my ascent. Looked like I was about to be greeted by their welcoming committee.

Brush cut and square jawed, the self-styled commando wanna-be stepped out on the skid opposite my own. His handsome but worn face sported a grin of eagerness and his body looked primed for a good old-fashioned take down. "The boss wanted you alive, but I happen to think you'd be a lot less trouble dead." He began to maneuver around the supporting rails, holding his gun in one hand, supporting his bodyweight with the other.

I didn't like the odds of wrestling with a man who out-weighed me to that degree on the skids of an aircraft. I had a much better chance at besting him on a flat surface. "You'll forgive me for sporting a difference of opinion, my friend." And with that I let go of the rail and slid carefully down the nearest chain.

Trouper that he was, he followed me closely, and I'm ashamed to say that I beat him to the surface of the magnet with barely a second to spare. But that second was all the time I needed. Seizing the nearest links with my hands, I propelled my lower half upwards, delivering a two-footed kick that had GI Joe tottering backwards off balance from the force. It was a sharp move but unfortunately, not the devastating blow I had planned it would be. The kick that I had hoped would end him merely succeeded in pissing him off. Worse, he managed to land a vicious punch to my gut and another to my ribs before I had the sense to pull my gun and fire. The bullet caught him square in the chest and another solid kick from me sent him tumbling off the platform to the earth below.

I eyed the chains with disgust, knowing I had no choice but to climb their lengths once more.

This time when I made it to the top, I swung over to the passenger side and stealthily worked my way to the door. When I was able to get a clear view of the inside of the aircraft, a careful inspection revealed only one person seated in the cabin; the pilot. I pulled the door open and propelled myself inside, gun at the ready.

I was ready for whatever action he took…but he didn't react at all at my entrance. His hands remained steady at the controls and he didn't so much as glance in my direction. "I want you to land this craft immediately in the nearest clearing," I ordered, and cocked the gun at ready. Again no response. "Land the helicopter!" I yelled over the noise of the blades, assuming that he either didn't hear me or didn't understand. "Landen Sie den Hubschrauber!" I yelled in German, then tried Spanish as well, "Tierra el helicóptero!" Nothing. No response at all. I prepared to launch myself at him to take control of the chopper but was distracted by a sweet smelling, oozing green gas that had begun to fill the cabin. The last thing I remember is catching a glimpse of the stitches lining his wrists and neck before slumping back against my seat.

* * *

_SCENE ELEVEN: THE CHALET_

I awoke to the oddest sensation. I was being carried, fireman style, down a long marble floored hallway in the colours of white and gold. The footsteps of the person doing the carrying were heavy and uneven…almost as if he had one leg much shorter than the other and for my nauseous stomach, it was almost more than I could take. I swallowed the bile in my throat manfully and forced myself to stay limp so that he would not be aware of my current state of consciousness.

My eyes roamed the walls of the estate home, looking for clues and though I spotted a number of world famous art pieces and paintings, nothing else of my surroundings seemed familiar.

There was noise coming from up ahead, sealed behind a massive set of brass doors. It was a combination of irate tones and broken wailing. As we got closer, I was able to separate and identify the voices. It looked as though I'd fallen into enemy hands for the third time that week. I was really slipping.

The doors swung open as we approached. One man sat behind a massive desk, the other, Thunderball trembled in the middle of the room, obviously too terrified to go any closer.

"You simple-minded fool," the young man behind the desk growled. "You led him right to me, just as I knew you would."

"Then you-you're not angry with me? I do not understand why you yell."

"Angry, no. Disappointed…yes, I'm afraid I am that. And I yell because you have no idea at all what you have done!" He raised an arm, pointing a gun and aiming it at Thunderball's head.

"NO! NO! WAIT! Y-You promised me a-a new liver! You promised, boss!"

"I lied." The pistol fired and Thunderball was no more. The shooter came the necessary steps forward to look down at the mass of flesh that once was a man. "Such a mess. I doubt there's much of anything that can be salvaged. Still, I hate waste. Clean up that filth and send the remains to the lab. I'm sure they'll salvage anything they can." His decision made he strolled over to me and looked me over, knowing that I was indeed awake and playing possum. "We've been waiting for you," he said and gestured for the man to carry me out of the room. "Dr. Frankenstein is expecting you."

* * *

_SCENE TWELVE: FRANKENSTEIN'S LABORATORY_ :

Through a maze of corridors and stairwells I was carried into the bowls of the residence. Marble and antiques soon gave way to more rustic scenery such as natural limestone with streaks of quartz and iron pyrite running through it. Deeper and deeper we went in the belly of the caves until we met another massive door. This time the door was made of roughened, weathered oak with humongous brass fittings. I listened intently for sound; a noise, a voice, anything that might prepare me for what lay beyond the door but no sounds penetrated the wood to reach my ears. Congruous to the ancient door, there was a very modern, highly sophisticated print scanner that my human trolley used to gain access to the room on the other side.

The sight that met my eyes was astounding to say the least. A modern lab with every high tech piece of equipment known to man had been set up in the gut of the cave. Pristine white walls and floors housed numerous pieces of stainless steel cabinets, chests, tables, instruments and diagnostic supplies, while close to ten people hurried about checking read outs and gauges with the utmost efficiency. But the most shocking sight of all were the multitudes of giant freezer components, that were constantly being opened and closed by the technicians as they retrieved the items requested by the doctors.

A man met us at the door, his coat and demeanor signifying that he held a position of authority in this particular lab. He wasn't at all pleased to see us. "Already?" he asked. "I was told he wasn't due for another two hours. We're up to our gills in extra parts, all of our operating stations are filled to capacity and he isn't even dead yet. I can't run a lab like this. Total inefficiency! Tell him to take this one back! I refuse to have another Lefty Lou on my hands! I must be shown some respect. This work is too important. Enough is enough!" He was about to walk away when the hulk that was carrying me dropped me to the floor. While I lay there groaning in pain, the doctor gave the creature a dirty look. "Alright…alright…I get the point. Just leave him there. I'll deal with him and the other one in a moment. No sense in letting him take his anger out on you. We have few enough drones as it is without him shooting what ones we do have full of holes. Damn idiot is trigger happy. He doesn't have a clue how much work goes into creating one of these." The hulk had exited by this time and the doctor was rooting around in a drawer by the time I had the sense to haul myself off the floor and try to sneak out behind the giant. The door had been shut and secured by the time I reached it but that didn't mean I was totally defenseless. The helicopter pilot wasn't the only one capable of producing a knock out gas.

Without hesitation, I dropped trousers and kicked them away, thus ensuring they would not hinder me in my next moves. My shirt was next, buttons ripping, cufflinks flying until I stood there clad only in my boxers and my socks.

The doctor watched me, a slightly shocked look on his face, the needle in his hand temporarily forgotten. Others were beginning to notice his distraction as well.

I whipped off my socks and after balling them tightly, started rubbing them against my chest in deep hearty circles. The chemical coating my socks was totally innocuous until mixed with the agent coating my chest. Once mixed, a powerful gas both tasteless and odorless, filled the room. I flung the socks as far across the lab as I could manage and then ripped at the lining of my boxers. The film I recovered from my shorts was specially designed to let only oxygen filter through it and keep me unaffected by the wafting gas that was currently downing all of the others. Within minutes, I was the only person still standing in the lab…or so I thought.

"I would have thought that a man on America's version of her majesty's secret service would be a little more circumspect in manner of attire but here we are." The voice was muffled, the figure masked, but there was no doubt at all who had entered the lab from the other corner of the room.

I lowered the plastic shielding my lips knowing that all danger from the gas was past. "Ah, just the person I wished to see. I assume that is you under all those boyish good looks, Goldfinger."

"Goldfinger, ha! That name belongs to another man. You've made quite a mess of things, Bond. Are they dead or merely unconscious?"

"Dead, I'm afraid. It's a bit extreme but I felt I didn't have much choice."

"Hmmm," the other man said, stepping over bodies to come closer. "You've caused me quite a problem. There was only one Dr. Frankenstein. He had a certain gift when it came to body morphing and reanimation. I had plans that have come to an untimely end."

"I'd apologize but that would be hypocritical of me. I'm not in the least bit sorry. This horror show is at an end."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you but then, we always had a remarkably opposite way of viewing certain situations. I'll find a way to rebuild. I have important work to do."

"You make it sound like you were doing something noble for the good of mankind! Dammit, man, you're taking people, dismantling them and then putting them back together in anyway you see fit!"

"Yes, exactly. Making perfect people from imperfect ones. What could be more noble or beneficial to all of mankind than that?"

"You're destroying people's lives, you sick bastard!"

"Lives? I don't think so. I don't kill the living. I only hunt ghosts."

"Huxley and Gwelth were very much alive when you killed them."

"No…no…not in any legal sense of the word, they weren't. They were agents. What's more they were former agents. Living ghosts. No one knew they existed and they had outlived their usefulness. You should be thanking me. The world should be celebrating my attentions in this matter. I'm making the earth a better place. I'm recycling the old to create the new."

"Madness! You've gone completely mad!"

"Mad, am I? Who are you to judge? Madness is letting fools like you dictate what is right and wrong. Madness is letting the weak take up space when there are stronger, more deserving people being pushed aside, unable to fulfill the roles they were destined to play."

"I was wrong. Madness is too soft a word for you, Goldfinger!"

He laughed defiantly. "You're living in the past, Bond. I live in the future where tomorrow never dies. I told you that that name belonged to another man."

"Fine. We'll try it your way. What are you calling yourself now?"

"Goldeneye."

"How very original. Come up with that all on your own?"

"Sad, Bond, just sad. I'm afraid I've grown bored of our conversation. I have much better things to do than waste my time listening to such awful dialogue so I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave. After all, you only live twice and I plan to make the most of my second trip around. Good-bye Bond. Mind the rats."

And he left, trapping me in the lab with a single flick of the security feature. I stood there trying to find a way out but there wasn't one. Each of the doors had been locked tight from the outside and there were no handles on the panels of the doors, only keypads. No windows either. It looked as though I'd finally been caught in a trap that I couldn't talk or think my way out of. What in hell was I going to do?

I slumped to the floor, exhaustion finally setting in and closed my eyes, trying to wish myself out of my predicament. The only thing I could think of was the air circulation system. Living breathing human beings had worked down here for what looked like to be endless periods of time. Air had to be cycled in and cleaned somehow so there had to be ventilation shafts located somewhere in the room. It was just a matter of me being determined enough to find them, I told myself. I would rest for a few moments and then begin my search. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall behind me.

Suddenly, I heard a groan, followed closely by a scrape of furniture. Quickly I opened my eyes and watched in horror as some of the figures began to rise from their places and howl in pain. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It wasn't possible. But it was! All the bodies I thought were dead had suddenly come back to life and they were in a mood to hunt. It didn't take long for them to zero in on the only surviving natural human in the room and by then I was back on my feet, desperate for escape but it was no use. They came at me in a horde…hands reaching…nails scratching and by then all I could do was scream and scream…

* * *

_SCENE : DESERT PALM HOSPITAL: ROOM 204, INTENSIVE CARE_

"I think he's finally coming around." Mandy's voice sounded tinny and overloud to his ears.

"Are you sure? I could give him a slap if you think it would help?" That was from Wendy. He'd know her special brand of insult anywhere.

Heart pounding David Hodges forced his eyes open. "What happened?" His head felt like it had the mother of all hangovers!

Nick helped him out. "Hodges, man, you took a dive. I told you, you needed to check out earlier. You've been in the hospital for two days, man."

"Hospital?" Hodges' tongue felt like someone had knitted it a sweater. "What's wrong with me?"

A man in a white lab coat and tie stepped up. His nametag read, Dr. Adams. "I can answer that. You got a good dose of that viral pneumonia that's been making the rounds. Starts off as a decent case of the flu but can turn on a dime. Actually, as much as I hate to disagree with your friend here it's a good thing that you were at the lab when you collapsed. Help was readily available and they had oxygen tanks on hand to aid you until the ambulance arrived. If you'd been alone…well…I don't like to dwell on the negative. You're responding well to the course of treatment I've prescribed. I think we can get you home by the end of the week."

Hodges blinked hard. "Home? But I've got reports and evidence to process…I couldn't possibly…they NEED me at the lab."

"David, as difficult as it may be…ow, Sara, that's my foot!" Grissom shot his wife a look and got a hard stare in return. His eyebrows rose. Message received. "Um, ahem…we will manage without you until you're back on your feet," he finished politely, removing the sarcastic edge that he had started the sentence with a smile. "Get better and when your doctor gives his consent we'll see you back at the lab." Grissom and Sara headed out the door, followed by Greg and Catherine.

"So, what exactly happened?" Hodges asked, looking to Nick, Mandy and Wendy for answers.

Nick turned a little red but Mandy was quick to step in. "Nicky here was worried about you. Wendy and I ran into him just after he'd talked to you and he asked us to keep an eye out. When I left twenty minutes later, you were still hard at it but…when Wendy checked…"

Wendy who had been extremely quiet the entire time shrugged against the wall, her arms folded defensively across her chest. "When I checked, you were on the floor. Not moving. Not breathing." She looked away then, but not before Hodges saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

"She saved your life, David. You're lucky she happened by when she did." There was a bit of an awkward silence and then Mandy tugged gently on Nick's arm, urging him to the door. "We have to go. We'll come by again in a couple of days."

As soon as they left that awkward silence mutated into an animal of another form altogether. Wendy was still propped against the wall, staring at anything but him and David felt moved to say something. "You're shaking," he said, without thought or tact.

Her eyes, when they zeroed in on him were suddenly ablaze with anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, dropping her arms and coming closer to the bed. "What was so important that you felt you had to push yourself to a state of exhaustion and ignore your own well-being?" When he couldn't answer, she pushed on. "I'll tell you what! Nothing! Nothing in that damn lab was worth this!"

To say he was shocked by her outburst was the understatement of the year. "Why are you so angry? I didn't do it on purpose."

"Didn't you?" She was right in his face now. "You were the one who made the decision to stay…you were the one who should have had the sense to see a doctor when you-you-" her sentence ended with a sob, and to his horror and hers she burst into tears. "You almost died," she gasped raggedly. "When I found you…I thought…I thought…you were dead!"

He reached up weakly, using every bit of strength he had to pull her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I'm very sorry. No one should have to deal with that. I wasn't…I wasn't thinking."

She let him hold her, needing the comfort. "Sometimes you can be a really selfish jerk, you know?"

"Yes…yes I do," he said quietly, able to admit the truth because she was letting him hold her. "I don't do it on purpose…I'm just wired that way, I suppose." He never felt a need to explain himself or his actions but her nearness was inspiring him to think of her feelings ahead of his own. "Thank you for helping me. I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

"You're welcome." She pulled away, wiping a hand across his cheek, a little embarrassed now that the anger had passed. "You um, you take care of yourself. I'll…I'll see you back at the lab."

He let her get all the way to the door before he called out, "Wendy?"

She didn't turn from the door. "Yeah, Hodges?"

"You could stay," he said, nervously, wishing he could see her face.

"No…I can't," she replied and then looked back over her shoulder with a tiny little smile. "Not yet." She winked at him and walked out.


End file.
